I learned a new term this week ~ sealioning. Originally I came across it via a Facebook friend who linked to this article by Sarah Seltzer on trolling behaviors that go beyond “mansplaining.” Seltzer described another obnoxious behavior, which consists of barking questions at a person and called it “manterrogating.” She provided a link to a poast by blogger Tegiminis specifically about that one technique. Tegimins aptly named this sealioning:

The purpose of sealioning never to actually learn or become more informed. The purpose is to interrogate. Much like actual interrogators, sealioners bombard the target with question after question, digging and digging until the target either says something stupid or is so pissed off that they react in the extreme.

Now, these blogpeeps were talking about online trolling, but I dgaf about that. I pan for these nuggets of gold to help me recognize crappy dating behaviors and kick the guy to the curb faster than I used to.

I am not going to call myself a victim (yuck), but I have been subjected to some sealioning and while it was never acceptable, now I understand that it’s actually a deliberate manipulative technique, rather than just a facet of personality. These guys engage in a pattern of aggressive questioning in the name of “honesty” and imply that you’re dishonest if at any point you want to exit the interrogation. But they don’t actually care about your answers; the point is to keep you continally anxious and off-balance.  You’re thinking, OK, if I just answer this one last thing, he’ll be satisfied and stop. Nope.

And peeps say Facebook is a waste of time. Hah!

My Favorite Mistakes

This may seem like a lazy poast, but really I ventured out into the wilderness of Google images to hunt down profound quotes to share with you. Remember when I burbled on about (no) Second Chances? That’s relevant here because giving a second chance is (in general, for me) making a mistake… and we won’t even talk about third, fourth, fifth chances. I am me, and whatever didn’t work for me at x-time isn’t going to work for me now. I don’t change and otter people don’t change either. EOFS.






These don’t only have to apply to romantic relationships, but for me they pretty much do. I don’t make that many mistakes in otter areas of my life. Seems like I should be able to take my successful ways of dealing with everything else and put them to use in the dating arena, but so far… not so much. However, I am getting better at exiting faster, so that’s good.

A friend just complimented me on that yesterday, which was nice to hear. :)

Mind Effery Games

Once again, Natalie hits it out of the park with her brilliant bloggery on projection.

It’s particularly unpleasant when [projection is] ongoing because we don’t know how to make the problem go away. We end up defending ourselves, explaining and re-explaining, reassuring, being super mindful of our behaviour to keep the peace, and all that it does is temporarily reassure that person against their doubts and then the moment that those feelings and thoughts that they’re hiding away start to poke out, it starts up again.

Right? I’m sure most of us have been there, walking on eggshells, choosing our words carefully, not knowing what will trigger the next paranoia-plosion, and yet trying to be honest regardless. I’ve been through this repeatedly, somehow being drawn to men who engage in this accusation/interrogation mindfuckery over nothing. Natalie makes sense of it all when she describes it as projection. They’re trying to cover up their own dishonesty or insecurity or whatever issue by turning the spotlight on me.

Someone who is afraid of their feelings or who is the type who when they’re in the wrong, they dig themselves into a bigger hole, will get wound up by the presentation of facts or keep trying to bulldoze with the same or even worse claims. It’s at this point when we have to stop engaging. [Natalie at Baggage Reclaim]

I’m pleased to note that I have been tolerating much less of this shitty behavior, getting the hell away from anyone who does it a lot faster than I used to. Now, to avoid starting up with them altogether!


Haiku Collection 1

These are some haikus I’ve tweeted. Before they’re lost forever in the mists of Twitterville, I’ve saved them here. Lucky, lucky blogreaders!

Goldenwarm sunwalk
Melts the week’s stresses away
Saturday sweetness

Tiger or lover
Slashing claws or slow bleed-out
Door number three please

Hissing waves foam up
Seek in vain on cold night sand
Bits of moonlit warmth

Friday the thirteenth
Much less scary with doughnut
Unless it’s jelly

Lone tiki torch lit
Steady in torrential rain
While we talk divorce

Sunday morning cat
Purring softly in my lap
I can haz coffee?

Dance Me To The End Of Love

This is another gorgeously heartbreaking song from Leonard Cohen, in his gravelier-than-thou late period voice, with an incredibly moving video. The vid incorporates the dance scene from Scent of a Woman (which I definitely need to rewatch) along with beautiful scenes of horses.


Crispy Critters


For some strange reason, M&Ms are periodically altered from their three perfect states of being:

– Plain
– Peanut
– Peanut Butter

The results are always disastrous.  Coconut was particularly disgusting, and I adore coconut.  (It’s documented.)

Crispy is no exception.  First, take the shape (please). Crispies are not nice little circles nor cute puffy balls. Nope. They are lumps. Lumpy lumps!


OK, let’s not be shallow, eh? The important thing is how they taste. Well, when you displace nummy chocolate in favor of dry crisped rice, how do you think they taste.


(Google check.)

Oh, apparently these things were released back in the 1990s and I missed the initial excitement while I was busy having babies and ironing shirts (as if).

How to Suffer Beautifully

Perfect review of the new Cinderella here in the NY Post.

Ella is an orphaned woman who fully expects she is losing her chance to marry the man she loves because of her wicked stepmother. Yet instead of cursing or sulking or weeping, she sings the song her mother sang to her as she fell asleep, all those years ago.

Cinderella never bitches or blames, but continues to be kind, especially to animals. This is not “anti-feminist” as Vox asserts, but in fact Cinderella uses the lessons her mother taught her to find her own inner strengths. She would have been fine with or without the Prince.

IDOJ, Part 1

So, a while back I bought the entire pile of I Dream of Jeannie episodes in one swell foop, and I began watching them this weekend. It’s really interesting to me that my memory of the show differs quite a bit from the reality. Then again, I first discovered IDOJ at age 10 and saw most of the eps in my teens.

First, the color. Ow, my eyes! When I started watching the show, it was in B&W, or our TV was, don’t remember. I had no idea the colors in the early eps were so damn garish. The opening cartoon background is bright red. Tony’s house is lime green and orange. Gak!

Second, though I read later that Jeannie was pregnant during Season One, I didn’t remember her looking pregnant, but she totally does. In one ep, she pops out of a cake with a bunch of veils draped over her, but the minute she turns she looks full-out preggers. Doesn’t take away from her gorgeousness at all, but I simply didn’t recall that.

Third, the show is stupid. I mean, really really stupid. I knew it was silly, but I thought it was at least full of witty jokes, and it just isn’t. The acting is OK ~ it’s the writing that sucks. Sorry Sidney Sheldon (RIP), but it does.

I did not recall that in these early eps Jeannie was so obsessed with marriage. It makes me cringe how she keeps flinging herself at Tony while he rejects her. The constant sexist housewifery put-downs make me cringe as well, but I fight the impulse to get pissed off because this was a half-century ago.

Fourth, I always disagreed with the idea that Bewitched was the better show, but I see I was wrong, at least from a writing standpoint. Bewitched did have better writing, at least compared to these early IDOJ eps. Not only that, but Bewitched had a cast of awesome supporting characters, like Sam’s mother and uncle, while Jeannie’s relatives are totally bland. (I’m not talking about the later eps where Barbara Eden plays her own mom and sister.) Two actresses have appeared as her mother so far, and they both are unfunny and add nothing to the show.


Fifth, Tony and Jeannie have undeniable chemistry, which is something I never felt between Sam and Derwood, or whatever his name was. The chemistry is always there ~ T&J are clearly super-attracted to each other and often can’t stop touching each other. Maybe that’s why I always liked this show while B left me cold (except for the witty scenes with Paul Lynde, etc.). The chemistry between the main characters is something that transcends the juvenile writing and lame jokes.

Sixth, in these early eps, Dr. Bellows has the best supporting role, not Roger, who is simply an idiot at best, and a greedy creeper at worst. I think he morphs into an inept, cute, puppy-dog type guy later on. We shall see if that memory is accurate! In any case, Bellows gets to have nicely sarcastic lines and I am enjoying his part a lot more than I remembered.

Side note: I finally discovered why Roger wears a green uniform while Tony’s is blue. Roger is in the army and Tony is in the air force ~ the two branches come together for space stuffs. I’ve been reading all sorts of IDOJ trivia online while I watch.

Seventh, bloopers! In the first season, the shows opened with a little recap, in case you might be confused by the complexity, lol. In the recap, Tony preps for his launch and Roger helps him put on his helmet… and Roger is wearing a wedding ring! (Or the hand they show that is supposed to be his is wearing one.) A theme of the show is that Roger is a bachelor on the prowl throughout all seasons, so this is totes stupid.

There are tons of other bloops. Forex, in one ep, Tony gives Jeannie a letter-sized white envelope to mail questions to him while he’s on a business trip. She turns into smoke and mails herself to him. But when he receives the envelope in his hotel room, it’s a large manila one!

The “ocean” behind Tony’s patio is the fakest looking thing imaginable. Looks like it was painted by a five year old. Not sure if that’s a blooper or just a stoopid.

Eighth, it was so fun to encounter the scene that first hooked me into the show, which is when Tony and Jeannie broke into the First National Bank of Baghdad so Tony could chant in the exact right spot to save Jeannie from disappearing. I like how the go-to line for all the “Persians” (which is what they call peeps in the Baghdad area on the show) is to chop off someone’s head, whether the scene was in the past or present. Just sayin’.

I’m in Season Two and am determined to watch all of these eps, five seasons worth, and torture you with my insights. Stay tuned! :D


Beautiful Sunday

This weekend was super hot and beautiful here in Orange County. Yesterday at the pi(e) place, my car thermostat got up to 115 degrees! (I had cherry a la mode. Twas delish!) Luckily it cooled off to a brisk 95 by the time I arrived at the movie theater. We saw Cinderella and I loved it. Cate Blanchett was wonderful as the evil stepmother.

Today I walked around Huntington Beach Central Park before the heat of the day set in. Here are a couple pix…



Hope all my blogpeeps have a fabulous week!

Happy (American) Pi Day

Later I’m going out for pi(e) and Cinderella. Weird combo, but hey that’s who I am. The Cinderella remake is supposed to be really good. Great cast, including Helena Bonham Carter, whom I adore. A quick Google shows Vox is bitching that the film is “inexplicably anti-feminist.” LOL really?

Back to pi(e). My friend Elizabeth, on Facebook, inadvertently reminded me of the time we baked a pi(e) cake for our high school math teacher. That was a very odd thing to do, but we were odd. I think we had some snow days (Chicago area) and were bored. Plus I had a crush on the calculus teacher. He was a hottie. I wish I could remember what was in the cake or why we even called it a pi(e) cake. Most likely it was a normal round cake with an icing PI on top. Wouldn’t it have been amusing if it’d been a square or rectangle? But I don’t recall.

I loved calculus. I loved the take-home tests the hot teacher gave us that were six (6) questions long and took three days to finish. He didn’t even care if we used our books and notes because he knew that wouldn’t help us. Elizabeth and I sat in my kitchen, listening my parents’ Woodstock album, as we tried to figure out the answers. We’d be drinking diet cream soda and eating a bunch of junk food, too. Eventually we’d come up with some kind of messy solution to each problem and declare a vague victory.

Once I wrote a love pome about math but lost it over the years. That makes me sad because it was really cute. Or, in my misty memory it was cute. It’s probably awful. I don’t remember any calculus now either. None. Zero. It’s like a foreign language. I’d have to start over at geometry and work my way back up.

I ordered a shirt that has a pi sign and “totally irrational” under it, but it’s long-sleeved and too hot for today. I’m wearing it anyway. I will always suffer for the joke. And so, a new pome…


While waiting for the rhombus
I ate a piece of pi
I was looking for your axis
But must have missed the sine

Euclid told me to get real
When my dreams all went askew
My points are parallel
While you’re Elliptic, dude

We stay in different quadrants
Our lives don’t intersect
Hoping is irrational
Love is the empty set

You are a perfect number
And I’m quite out of line
I hope to find my focus
With a second piece of pi